You're in Good Hands
by Arcole
Summary: I LOVE Mayhem on the Allstate commercials! When I saw the new Werther's candy commercial with the lovely young lady in the candy store, this unlikely urban romance was born. What would happen if Mayhem fell in love? Find out here!
1. Chapter 1

(This fic is born of an unhealthy attraction to Mayhem on the Allstate commercials-Dean Winters is a hot piece of work! Then when I saw the new Werther's candy commercial right afterward, I could not resist a pairing. I have no idea how long this will go, but it will be a mostly serious urban romance about two unlikely people falling in love. Have fun reading!)

You're in Good Hands

Chapter One

The night air slipped chilly fingers into Elsa's long blue wool coat as she strolled past the shops of her neighborhood. A quick resnuggle of her soft red scarf, however, remedied the nip in the breeze and she turned her attention back to windowshopping. The glowing windows of a candy store triggered memories of her childhood and she paused in her stroll long enough to purchase a small white paper bag of caramels.

A few steps further brought her to the door of her favorite café and she was delighted that even though she'd arrived during the peak of the dinner hour, Evan, the maitre d' that evening, greeted her by name and seated her right away in a quiet table not too far from the bar. She ordered a mixed green salad to begin and glanced around the restaurant while she waited, enjoying the scene of happy couples and cheerful families busy with their meals and their lives.

The front door opened to admit a man in a trim black suit, his dark hair disheveled slightly by the wind. He spoke to the maitre d' in a quiet voice, and Evan nodded and directed him toward a seat at the bar. The man walked toward her, his eyes flickering around the restaurant as if he were looking for someone. Then his eyes lit on hers.

The crack of breaking glass sounded without warning from behind the bar as Raoul uncustomarily allowed a wineglass to slip through his fingers to the tile floor.

Everyone in the café looked up in surprise except for the man who approached her. His eyes never left hers as he strode purposefully toward his stool, only two seats from her table, giving her a friendly yet slightly rakish smile before turning away to face the bar.

Raoul paused long enough in the cleanup of the breakage to take the man's order for a whiskey—neat. Once the man's gaze left her own, she studied him from behind the shield of her water glass. His dark suit lay smooth and impeccable across his shoulders. A shadow of stubble grazed his strong jaw, but he didn't look unshaven—he just looked . . . sexy. His cheek bore an angry red scrape and a small white bandage pulled together a cut at his right temple. She wondered what had happened to him.

As if he knew she studied him, he turned, whiskey glass in hand, and his eyes met hers once more.

Startled, she hastily set down her water glass, knocking her knife off the table in the process.

Before she could begin to reach for it, he'd retrieved the errant utensil from the floor and smiled at her once more in that friendly, yet rakish way.

"Do we know each other?" she asked, and though she attempted a frosty disinterest, she found her question more filled with curiosity instead.

"I don't believe so," he replied in a deep voice that held a rough edge to it, much like his appearance—perfectly tailored, yet slightly disheveled.

He was hitting on her, she realized as he passed the knife into her hand, his fingers almost but not quite brushing hers in the process. Any other time she might have been nervous or affronted, but this time with this man, she couldn't help but be intrigued.

With a boldness that surprised her, she held out her hand and introduced herself. "Elsa," she offered with a smile.

"Tyler May," he responded, taking her hand in a warm, strong grasp.

She offered him a seat, which he took with a smile less rakish and more genuine. He ordered his own dinner, a medium rare steak, and for dessert she gave him a caramel from her little white sack.

They kept the conversation easy and innocuous about favorite books and movies and places to visit in the city. She discovered that he worked for a large insurance company and finally guided the conversation around to asking how he'd injured himself.

"I was a little too close to a tree limb that fell on a car," he admitted. "Does it look really awful?"

Without thinking, she reached across the table to turn his face toward the light. "Not so awful," she teased as she examined the scrape more carefully. He sat very still beneath her touch and she realized he was holding his breath. She grazed his jaw as she moved her hand away, the stubble of his beard pulling at the soft skin of her fingertips.

"What are you doing tomorrow night?" he asked, his voice suddenly soft. "Can I call you?"

"Yes," she answered. "You can call me."

He searched his pockets for a pen, but Elsa came to the rescue and jotted her phone number down on a scrap of the white paper sack she hastily tore free.

He paid for her dinner, despite her protests, and hailed her a cab outside as the hour had grown very late. "I don't know which way she's heading," Tyler instructed the cabbie, "but stay away from 45th and Elm. It's a bad intersection. Take Montrose instead if you need to go that way."

He held the door open for her as she slid into the seat of the cab, the bag of caramels somehow spilling out onto the sidewalk. Quickly, he crouched to gather the loose candies, pressing them into her hands.

"These are for you," she whispered as she placed several back into his fingers. He nodded and dropped them into his coat pocket before carefully closing the door.

As the car pulled away from the curb, she settled into her seat, not quite able to resist a backwards glance at this stranger she'd met in a café. Tyler May still stood beside the street, watching her drive away. The lights went off behind him one by one as the restaurant closed. Then the cab turned onto Montrose.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I cannot believe I am writing this! I have so many other projects to work on! But you know, I have discovered that sometimes my original work (as Arley Cole-The Blacksmith's Daughter and Leigh Daley-Storm Duty, which is out Oct 10 at Amazon and more) benefits from my doing a bit of fanfiction on the side to grease the creative wheels so to speak. And I'm not stopping my Lost fic Grace Period as Arcole either. But this little piece came to me and I'm just going to have to hope maybe a few readers will like it and migrate over to buy some of my real fiction so I can make a living as a writer. But if you discover it and like it, please oh please review! I can write without reviews but reviews make my day!


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

Elsa found herself dressing with extra care the next day, even though she didn't know why since she was only going to the library. Tyler had called her just before lunch that morning and suggested they attend the opening of a new exhibit there that afternoon.

At first, she assumed that meant he was interested in art and culture, then he informed her that the exhibit was of comic book art. She'd laughed and decided that it meant he had a sense of fun.

His sense of fun didn't extend to his wardrobe, she decided as she stepped out of the cab to see Tyler in another black suit waiting for her in the shadow of one of the large stone eagles that flanked the entrance. However, he seemed very happy to see her and took her elbow gallantly to assist her up the flight of stairs that led to the imposing front doors.

They wandered the dusty shelves to the exhibition hall, making small talk about the weather and the likelihood of snow overnight. Tyler assured her that the snow and ice would be heavy and cause structural damage to small buildings.

"So you are a weatherman too?" she asked.

"Only by day. By night I'm just a troublemaker," he replied with a wink.

The white walls of the exhibition hall contrasted starkly with the muted browns of the bookshelves. As she entered the room more fully, the riot of color from the art on display sprang into view.

Other than pausing twice in their stroll to admire a couple of scary villains, Tyler didn't really pay much attention to the exhibit. Every time she glanced over, her eyes met his. They were dark gray, she noticed.

Instead of talking about the illustrations that graced the walls in all their wild superheroic glory, he asked questions about her. He wanted to know what she liked to do, where she liked to eat, how many brothers and sisters she had.

But she never felt stalked. He laughed a lot in his rakish way and teased her when she evaded him in her answers.

Finally they stood before a large poster of a superheroic woman with glowing eyes and white hair. The wind appeared to be whipping around her violently.

"Who is this?" Elsa asked.

"Storm. She's my favorite of the X-Men," he admitted.

"She's pretty, I guess," Elsa offered, wincing at the sound of jealousy in her voice.

"I guess," Tyler teased with a laugh. "I just like the way she tosses cars around in the wind."

The sun had begun to set as they left the exhibit, so they walked around the block to a pizza place for dinner. Just as they reached the door, Tyler stopped and took her arm. "Let's pass on pizza tonight," he said. "Does Greek sound okay to you?"

She agreed and they crossed the street to enter the little Mediterranean themed café across the way. She had just taken a sip of her mint tea when she realized that a crowd poured out the front door of the pizza joint.

Patrons dashed out onto the sidewalk, all apparently soaking wet, slinging water from their clothing and rubbing their eyes. The proprietor followed them into the street, shouting reassurances that the building was not on fire. The sprinkler system had malfunctioned, he repeated over and over.

"That could have been us! I hope your company doesn't have them insured," Elsa commented as she watched the drama in the street.

"We don't." A rakish smile played on Tyler's lips, a smile that slipped a little as his eyes ran over the crowd.

Elsa followed his gaze and spotted a family with a baby in arms, all soaked to the bone in the cold evening air.

"Be right back," he murmured and headed out the door of the restaurant. She watched through the window as he shrugged off his suit jacket and draped it around the mother and her baby. The father smiled and apparently thanked Tyler, then put his arms around his wife and child, rubbing their backs to generate more heat.

Tyler nodded and turned back across the road, his white dress shirt shining in the light of the streetlights.

In moments the soaked patrons had returned to the pizza place now that the sprinkler had been disabled. "I feel sorry for the owner," Elsa sighed as Tyler took his seat again at their table. "What a disaster for him."

"Technically that was just mayhem," Tyler replied. "Disaster is much worse, not to mention tragedy."

"It looked pretty disastrous to me. And that poor baby." Then she smiled at Tyler in his shirt sleeves. "It was very sweet of you to give them your jacket."

Tyler looked sheepish. "I've got plenty more just like it at home."

They finished dinner and Tyler once again insisted on paying for the meal then asked the girl behind the counter to call them a cab.

"Sorry," she shrugged. "The phones went out when that sprinkler went off across the road. Maybe something shorted out."

Elsa reached into her bag for her cell phone only to find that her battery had gone dead. Tyler just shook his head and laughed. "Mine is on my dresser at home."

"What if you needed to call someone?" Elsa asked.

"I am with the only person I would have wanted to call," he responded with a wink. Something about that wink ran through her in ways she didn't expect.

"My place isn't far from here," Elsa found herself offering. "How about walking me home? I'll make you a cup of hot tea and we can call you a cab from there."

"Make that a cup of coffee and you have a deal." The smile that accompanied this statement sent the same vibrations through her as the wink had done.

"You have a deal," she agreed even though she didn't have any coffee.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The first flakes of snow began to fall just as they stepped onto the sidewalk. "You should have worn an overcoat," Elsa chided, taking Tyler's shirtclad arm and pulling him closer to her side for warmth.

"Probably," he agreed. "But I hate having to keep up with it."

By the time they reached the door of her building, heavy wet flakes of snow covered the pavement and Tyler shivered in earnest.

"Be careful, miss," the doorman called as he admitted them into the building. "It's getting slippery out here."

Tyler followed her into the foyer of her building, giving an appreciative whistle as he took in the beautifully paneled walls and exquisite chandelier. "I never asked what you do," he stated with a grin.

Elsa laughed and pressed the brass call button of the elevator. "Nothing," she admitted. "I am very fortunate."

"So you are some kind of heiress?" he guessed as they stepped into the warmth of the elevator.

"Something like that."

The elevator came to a halt on the top floor of the building and she led him to the door of her apartment, placing her wet coat on a hanger to dry in the entry closet. He whistled again as he took it in.

"My entire place would fit in this corner, I think," he shook his head. "I swear I had no idea you were loaded."

"Let me get you a blanket," she offered, a little uncomfortable by his apparent awe. It had never occurred to her that her place was anything very special. It was simply her place.

"A towel might be better. I don't want to drip all over your rug." Tyler ran a hand through his wet hair.

She retrieved a towel from the bathroom and passed it to him with a smile. "I think I have something dry you can put on," she offered.

He followed her to stand at the end of the hall as she entered her guest room. "Something your ex-boyfriend left?" he teased in that deep husky voice of his.

"I don't have ex-boyfriends," she replied frostily. "This is my brother's." She held out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt to him. "You are about the same size."

She showed him to the bathroom. "You can hang your clothes in the shower to dry."

"Yes, ma'am." He smiled, but this time the smile was a little more guarded.

In the greatroom, she lit the fire with a flick of the remote, and the warmth began to fill the room.

Then she headed back to her bedroom to change out of her own damp, chilly things. She debated several choices before finally deciding on a sapphire colored track suit as the right balance between stylish and comfortable. As an afterthought, she pulled her hair free of its elegant chignon to hang loose around her shoulders.

Tyler stood next to the fireplace when she returned, gazing out the large windows at the falling snow. Her ex-boyfriend's clothing fit him very well, and she wondered why she'd lied to him.

"It's really coming down out there," she commented.

Tyler started in surprise at her voice. "Yes," he agreed, then his eyes widened as he took her in, flickering from her face to her hair and back again. "I like your hair. It's really pretty that way."

She smiled and took a seat on the sofa in front of the fireplace, curling her feet beneath her.

"I better go ahead and call a cab," he said after a long pause. "It'll be hell trying to get one in this weather as it is."

"Do you really have to go so soon?" she asked, wondering why he wanted to leave. Had she been too bossy? Did her place make him uncomfortable?

"I guess I can wait a minute or two."

She patted the seat next to her. "At least warm up by the fire before you go."

He sat next to her and she placed her hand on his arm. "You're freezing still," she exclaimed. "You really do need that blanket."

Despite his protests, she rose and grabbed a cashmere throw from a nearby chair and cast it over the both of them. She welcomed its buttery warmth herself and snuggled in closer to him.

The firelight played across the floor as they sat there in silence. Then she felt his hand reach for hers. "Your hands are warm," he commented.

"And yours are like ice," she laughed and took his hand in both of hers, leaning against his arm to share even more of her body heat with him.

Another long moment passed in companionable silence. She rested her head against his shoulder and felt him relax a little more at her side.

"How long do you think the storm will last? She asked, not really caring about the answer.

"For a few hours at least," he replied. "And the roads are going to be pretty slick until the plows come through. Lots of fender benders."

"Then you should stay."

He turned to look at her. "I should stay?"

She grew flustered as she considered how he might be defining 'stay'. "I don't mean 'stay'," she declared. "Not like 'stay.' I mean you shouldn't go out in the storm You don't have a coat." He shifted and began to pull his hand free of hers.

"I'm sorry," his voice was downright gravelly as he spoke. "I didn't mean to assume anything. I better go."

He rose from the sofa, spreading the blanket back across her as he did so. She frowned helplessly and tossed the blanket aside as she rose to follow him. He head into the bathroom to retrieve his clothing, water still dripping from his white shirt and black dress slacks.

"Those aren't dry yet," she protested as she followed him. "You'll catch your death out there."

He gave her a sideways grin. "Nah, I'll be fine. Tragedy has the night off."

"But I still owe you a cup of coffee," she said plaintively as she stopped him with a hand on his arm.

He looked down at her with an unfathomable look, as if she'd given him some kind of gift.

"Let me at least make you a cup of coffee," Elsa tried once more.

He reached up and ran his fingers through the ends of her hair and she felt herself step forward.

Tyler kissed her then, his lips brushing hers softly at first. When she didn't pull away, when she leaned into him ever so slightly, he kissed her again, taking a little longer this time.

Then he pulled back but his hand still rested at her waist, keeping her near him. "I don't want to mess this up," he whispered. "I mess things up a lot."

"Then we go slow. You stay but without staying," she replied. "We'll be together but not together."

He nodded and took her hand. They walked back to the sofa and sat once more by the fire, his arms around her as she curled against his side.

"I'm not the right kind of guy for someone like you," he said after a long while. "You need somebody better than me."

"Why? Because I have a nice apartment?" she responded, then ran her fingertips over Tyler's hand, taking his fingers in hers. "Maybe you are just the kind of guy I need."

He sighed and pressed a kiss onto her hair. "There's a lot you don't know about me," he admitted in a soft rough voice.

"There's a lot you don't know about me either. I lied to you earlier," she added, looking up into his face, intending to come clean about the previous owner of the clothes.

The question in his eyes shone out sincerely, and she couldn't do it. "I don't have any coffee," she said instead.

With relief, she watched his uncertainty transform into laughter.

"Then I guess I'll have to drink tea in the morning," he replied with a very genuine smile.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

The next morning the sun rose with that bright paleness that only comes when it shines over fresh snow. Tyler had no idea what time it was, only that he lay warm in bed under the softest sheets and beside the softest person he'd ever felt.

Elsa snuggled against his back, her body curved perfectly against his, her arm across his chest.

What the hell was he doing? He'd never in his adult life done anything like this. Cautiously, he reached beneath the thick down comforter to touch his leg.

Yep, still clothed. Some kind of pajamas. He couldn't believe it.

He'd slept over at a beautiful woman's house and just slept. He'd slept over like a teenage girl. What was wrong with him?

He wondered for a moment if maybe he didn't feel well. A quick check of his sensibilities informed him that wasn't it. He felt great, up and ready to go just like usual.

He considered the chance that maybe he just wasn't feeling it with Elsa. Maybe he'd backed off in self-defense from a bad hookup.

Then she sighed and ran her hand over his arm as she began to stir. His breath caught in his chest and the hair on the back of his neck prickled in anticipation.

His sensibilities took a big stir of their own and told him in no uncertain terms that he was feeling it and then some with Elsa. In fact, he felt it so strongly that it took all his self-control to lie still against her when all he wanted was to roll her over beneath him.

So what was stopping him?

His phone rang in the pocket of his black dresspants in the bathroom. Da da da da.

Crap. It was work.

Da da da da, the little melody played again. She stretched beside him and he remembered that he'd lied to her the night before about leaving his phone on the dresser.

Da da da da.

The last thing he wanted to do was leave her arms and that incredible bed, but he had no choice. For some reason he absolutely did not want her to know he'd lied to her.

Carefully, he slipped free of her embrace and tiptoed into the bathroom, snatching his phone out of the pocket of his trousers as he closed the bathroom door firmly behind him.

"Yeah," he answered gruffly, not caring who hung on the other end of the line.

"May! Where the hell are you?" It was Disaster. Crap. They had a breakfast meeting scheduled and he'd missed it.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I got held up in the snow last night."

"Snow?" she scoffed into his ear. "This, my friend, is a full fledged blizzard. The Weather Channel is calling it the worst winter weather disaster in ten years. The company owes me bonus pay for this one, Ty."

The glee in Disaster's voice was unmistakable. He could just see her twirling around in her desk chair in delight.

"So did Tragedy come in this morning?" Tyler asked curiously. If those two were both on duty, things could get rough fast.

"Nope. He's in the Bahamas for the next few weeks. It's just you and me, sweetheart."

Tyler cringed a little at the suggestiveness in her tone. He and Disaster had been an item there for a while, but the company really frowned on interoffice romance. Then she took up with a guy in the Center for Disease Control and pretty much vanished from his social radar. Once it was over, he had to admit he had been relieved. Disaster could be a real moody bitch.

As she prattled on about how all the subway lines were closed and how many homes were without power, an idea occurred to him.

"Sounds like you've got things under control then," he began, laying on the admiration pretty thick. "I might take a few days off myself."

"Fine by me," she agreed. "I'll send an email upstairs and let them know you're taking a long weekend." He thanked her and promised to return the favor sometime soon.

The call now ended, he silenced the ringer and slipped the phone deep into his pocket once more. Then he took a leak and checked his reflection in the mirror as he washed his hands.

The cut on his temple looked better, so he peeled the little butterfly bandage free, glad to see it didn't start bleeding again. It would be nice to have a few days off to heal if nothing else.

All the same, mayhem tended to follow him regardless of whether or not he was on the clock. He half-expected to find the door of Elsa's balcony blown open and eight inches of snow on the floor as he walked quietly into the greatroom.

To his relief, no winter wonderland greeted him. So he cranked up the fireplace and headed into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee. As much as he wanted to crawl back into bed beside her, something deep inside warned him that would not be a good idea. Dealing with mayhem all these years had taught him the importance of listening to that voice.

With a resigned shrug, he began digging in the cabinet for coffee. Just as he remembered her telling him she didn't have any, he found a canister of Sumatran blend hiding behind a box of cookies.

It took him a few minutes to figure out her state of the art coffee maker, but soon a pot was brewing, sending the heavy aroma of the rainforest into the air.

He let the smell soak into him for a moment then peeked into the fridge to see if she had anything good for breakfast.

The contents of the high-end refrigeration unit were downright inspirational. He quickly found everything he needed to make a loaded omelet, including organic free-range eggs and artisan cheese. Out of habit, he turned the cheese over and checked the expiration date. He'd once thrown out a two month old jug of milk from his own fridge, but only after taking a swig first, he remembered with a grimace.

Not only was the cheese extremely fresh, the exorbitant price on the bottom actually made his eyes widen. He checked the label to see if the ingredients included gold dust or one hundred year old champagne.

He hesitated. She might be saving this for a special occasion.

Hell, he decided, any meal with her was a special occasion and dropped the cheese onto the countertop. Besides in the absence of Velveeta, he didn't have a choice. With a grin of pure mischief, he gleefully began to chop, mix, and grate.

He'd just placed the omelet in the oven under the broiler to finish when Elsa padded into the kitchen, all soft and drowsy in her pink pjs.

God, she was beautiful.

"Good morning, sunshine," he teased. She gave him a sleepy smile that rendered him utterly unable to resist the temptation to pull her into his arms. Her dark hair tumbled around her shoulders and tickled his face as he pressed a kiss onto the softness of her cheek.

"What are you doing?" she asked curiously as she hugged him then pulled away.

"Making breakfast," he replied easily. "Want some coffee?"

"I don't have any," she yawned.

He gestured to the now-brewed pot and smiled.

"In that case, sure," she answered, then took a seat at the island. "Cream and sugar please."

He found the cups in the first cabinet he opened and his fingers went to the sugar bowl and spoons without thought, as if this were his kitchen and not hers.

Seconds later, he turned the omelet out of the pan perfectly and served her up a slice, feeling very accomplished as he did so. He had his faults, but damn it, he could cook.

When she took a bite and gave him a very encouraging smile, his enjoyment of the moment was complete.

Tyler pulled up a seat next to her at the bar, feeling like the stars had aligned or something. He dealt in mayhem on a daily basis. He'd flirted with Disaster and had a cubicle next to Tragedy.

But right then as they ate breakfast together like an old married couple, none of that seemed to matter.

When he was with her, he felt safe.

This bombdrop of realization made him put down his fork in shock.

"Something wrong?" she asked.

"No. Everything's great." Too great. He picked up his fork again and forced himself to take a bite as nonchalantly as he could.

Every bite sent delicious frissons of freshness to his tastebuds and gourmet nutrition signals to his brain. The fire across the room glowed in a perfectly homey fashion and the tiles beneath his bare feet radiated a gentle warmth.

Everything was absolutely perfect, a haven of peace that mayhem could not touch.

She was still looking at him with question in her eyes.

Her softness began to slip into confusion, a confusion he'd put there. He didn't know what to do or say to stop it. He just knew that he didn't belong there. If he stayed in her life, chaos would follow.

As if in confirmation, the balcony door blew open with a loud bang and an icy wind whipped through the room.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

"What was that?" Elsa squealed at the sudden commotion from the greatroom.

"Sorry about that," Tyler apologized as he ran out of the kitchen to close the balcony door against the howling wind.

He wrestled with it for a moment, then declared, "The latch is broken. Sorry about that."

Elsa wondered at the twin apologies, considering that it wasn't as though Tyler had broken her door. The wind had done it.

"It's no big deal," she assured him. "Just an accident." She picked up an armchair and used it to wedge the door shut. "I'll call building maintenance and they'll get it fixed."

She turned back to the kitchen to finish her breakfast, but Tyler didn't follow. Instead, he stood there staring at the broken door with a frown on his face, as if he were disappointed with it.

"Come finish your breakfast," she said softly. "You don't want food this good to get cold."

When he finally walked back to the bar, she asked, "Where did you learn to cook like that anyway?"

Tyler gave her a little sideways grin. "Necessity."

"Necessity is a good teacher," she commented, wiping her mouth on her napkin. "That was the best omelet I have ever had."

"It's that expensive cheese of yours," he laughed. "You can't mess up great ingredients."

"I could," she admitted. "I'm a terrible cook. But I clean up nicely." With that she began to load up their plates into the dishwasher. Soon the cooktop sparkled and the counters had all been wiped to a spotless shine.

While Tyler turned on the television to check the weather, Elsa excused herself to get dressed. After a quick shower, she slipped into another soft tracksuit, this one in a velvety cream. Then she tumbled through her ex's leftover clothing to find something Tyler could wear even though his suit pants and shirt were now dry.

She picked up the black trousers, intending to drop them over a hanger to dewrinkle a bit. To her surprise, they buzzed. More accurately, the phone in his pocket vibrated.

She distinctly remembered his telling her he'd left his phone at home. But as she spotted her ex-boyfriend's jeans draped over the back of the vanity chair, she considered that she'd lied to him too and that her lie was worse. But she had her reasons and supposed he did too.

So she left his clothing just as she'd found it, phone and all, and returned to the greatroom. "How's the weather?" she asked.

"Cold and wet. Everything's shut down due to the snow and ice. They're calling it the worst winter disaster in the past twenty years," Tyler declared in a flat voice.

"I found more of my brother's things for you to wear," she declared even though the lie stung a bit this time. "If you want to get a shower or anything."

"Yeah," he said, but he still sounded distracted. He rose from the sofa and walked toward her, his eyes taking her in as he came nearer.

His direct gaze and the little smile that played on his lips as he approached made her think he was going to stop beside her, maybe to touch her or kiss her. But though his steps slowed as he drew even with her, he moved past into the hallway. Soon she heard the sound of the shower running.

He emerged a short while later, his dark hair still damp. But instead of the jeans and shirt she'd laid out for him, he wore his own rumpled black pants and white oxford, though the shirt was untucked and partially unbuttoned to reveal his white undershirt beneath. He held his tie in one hand.

"I've gotta go," he responded to the unasked question in her eyes.

"Sure, of course," she agreed, even though she didn't agree, not at all.

"I'll tell the building super to take a look at that door," he offered.

"How are you going to get home?" she asked as she realized he really meant to leave. "Unless you live next door, you'll freeze to death walking in this weather."

"Nope," he gave her a wry grin, "Tragedy is in the Bahamas for a couple of weeks. I'm safe."

"Be serious," she pleaded with him. "The snow has all the subways and streets closed. And you absolutely cannot walk home in your shirt sleeves. At least give them a while to plow the streets so you can call a cab."

As if in confirmation of her words, the wind howled again, pushing the balcony door against the chair so that the legs began to screech across the floor. She ran to it and pushed the door once more, feeling the latch click securely into place as she did.

"It latched," she declared happily. Then she gave the deadbolt a firm twist to make sure it stayed closed. Outside, the wind picked up as another wet, heavy barrage of snow began to fall.

Tyler stood across the room, staring at the door as if daring it to burst open again. "Please don't go out in this," she asked. "You can watch television, and I'll go read in my room."

Tyler looked as if she'd struck him. "Is that what you think I want?" he asked, a hurt undercurrent in his voice. "Elsa, I'm not trying to get away from you. My God, no."

"Then stay," she whispered.

He crossed the room then to take her into his arms. She leaned against him, feeling his heart beat in his chest against her cheek.

"Elsa, if I stay this time, I'm going to 'stay'," he warned her, his voice rough. "And I'll probably never leave. Do you want that?"

She considered what he was saying, the depth of what that meant. This man was practically a stranger. She knew very little about him. She was taking a tremendous risk that could pay off in heartbreak and tragedy.

Then she remembered what he'd said—tragedy was in the Bahamas, whatever that meant.

All she knew was that when she was with him, she felt alive. The rest of her well-ordered, peaceful life paled next to him.

She pulled away just far enough to look him in his dark gray eyes, just close enough to run her hand over his unshaven cheek. "Stay with me. Stay with me and never leave," she replied.

In answer, he kissed her with all an unexpected passion, a passion he must have held back from the night before. His shirt dropped to the floor, followed by her sweater. In short order, they found themselves on the sofa before the fireplace, tangled in each other's arms, skin pressed against skin.

Despite the warmth of the fire, he shivered against her as he stroked her cheek. "Are you sure?" he asked again in that husky voice she'd come to adore. "I tend to mess things up."

"Yes, I'm sure," she replied, running her fingertips down his chest. "Like I said, I'm good at cleaning." Then she pulled him even closer, kissing him with every bit of assurance she could muster.

Maybe the warmth of the fire finally reached him or maybe it was the heat of her embrace, but as the kiss turned into passionate exploration, she realized he'd stopped shivering.

- 0 –

Afterward, they lay there, still tangled together, her head on his shoulder as he toyed with her hair.

Tyler had never loved anybody before. Not like this. He'd never needed anybody before. Now the need he felt for her was almost physical. It both terrified and exhilarated him.

He'd spent his entire adult life making sure trouble came to those folks who didn't pay attention, who didn't prepare, who didn't maintain, who didn't think ahead.

He'd grown up with almost nothing and had lost what little he'd had at a very young age. The company had become the family he'd lost, had given him a chance to impact the world in a way he truly enjoyed.

So many people out there had so much and just casually risked it all by not thinking. They put their faith in the most untrustworthy people and things.

They practically invited mayhem by failing to stay on top of their business and their relationships.

He gleefully exploited their weak moments and stupid decisions, both to shake them up and to pay them back for not realizing just how good they had it.

Now with Elsa in his arms, he had become one of them. He finally had something he wanted to keep, something that meant the world to him.

He used to wonder how Tragedy kept his sanity, how he stayed such a nice guy despite the work he did.

Then last year at the company New Year's Eve bash, he'd met Tragedy's wife, Aimee. Until he met Elsa, she had been the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

But Aimee Eady wasn't just physically attractive. She exuded some kind of powerful force that made every person she spoke to feel special, as if she were truly interested in who they were and what they wanted out of life. Just being with her made everything better.

When he saw the two of them together, he knew that his co-worker knew just what a treasure he had too. Chad Eady's dayjob might be Tragedy, but Aimee Eady was his life.

Maybe it was supposed to be that way. Maybe Chad and his wife were two sides of the same coin, maybe their love and his job were bound together by some kind of mysterious bond.

He wanted that too. He'd never loved anybody before—until now.

Elsa sighed and stretched, her body soft and warm against his. She felt so good.

Then she pushed herself to sit beside him. "Where are you going?" he asked, his skin already growing cool where she'd pulled away.

"I'm not going anywhere," she assured him with a kiss. Then she touched his cheek with gentle fingers. "I'll be right back."

She rose from the couch and gathered her fallen clothing from the floor, taking it down the hallway with her. In a couple of moments, she returned, fully clothed once more—to his disappointment. He had been hoping to just lie around naked with her all day. She also had a cloth in her hand.

She sat next to him and dabbed his temple with the damp cloth. "Looks like that cut reopened," she commented, rubbing at his cheek and into his hair.

Afraid he was bleeding all over her sofa, he sat up next to her. "I should have left the bandage on it," he groaned. "Did I make a mess of your couch?"

"No," she assured him, pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "You did not make a mess." She rubbed once more at his hair and cheek, then pulled out a new bandage and secured it into place.

But when she got up to return the washcloth to the bathroom, he noticed the bloodstain on the sofa with a frown.

Outside at the balcony, the wind rattled the door, and despite the warmth in the room, he couldn't help but shiver.


	6. Chapter 6

(AUTHOR'S NOTE: Thanks to everybody who is reading this story and especially to those who are reviewing! If you aren't reviewing, please oh please do. Knowing you're out there is the only reward I get for this! And if you like it, pass the word. I hate to market on Facebook and my blog is atrocious. gave me my start as a writer and the readers here have been so wonderful to me. So I have decided to market my original work through by writing more fanfiction ('cause it's so danged fun!) and encouraging readers to check out my other stuff. Links are on my profile. But something so off the wall as this fic doesn't get much traffic since people-well, most people-aren't looking for Mayhem fics! If you are enjoying it, let somebody else know to come on board. I'd appreciate the boost! And special note to ShadowedSaint, I promise this won't get too angsty and I'm not killing anybody. You are safe with me!)

Chapter Six

They spent the rest of that day and the next watching old movies, enjoying the fitness center's heated indoor pool, building snowmen on the balcony, cooking exotic dishes, and making sweet, passionate love to one another. Everything was perfect.

When he woke the morning of their last day of holiday together, Tyler kept his eyes closed and lay very still beside her.

He wanted to make the moment last. So he lay there with her hair in his face and her hand on his stomach and didn't move.

Somewhere in the building, a guy's water heater had stopped working and he was going to step right into a freezing cold shower when he expected warmth.

Outside in the street, a woman's car was getting covered completely by a mountain of snow as the plows came through at last. She'd be lucky if her convertible top survived the load.

Whether he was working or not, mayhem was everywhere—everywhere but in that apartment with Elsa.

He remembered the night before over dinner when she'd asked him just what he did at the insurance company where he worked.

He evaded the question by saying he was mostly a field operator. "It's a job. Something us unfortunate people have to do," he commented dismissively. "I was born under a cloud and misfortune just seems to keep following me."

"Not anymore," she laughed. "I'm fortunate enough for both of us." He had agreed with a grin, but couldn't help glancing over at the balcony door, which shivered in a sudden gust of wind.

Now, lying beside her, he never wanted to leave that oasis of peace he'd found in her arms. But he knew he had to go to work. She might indeed be filthy rich, but he was no gold digger.

And sooner or later, he had to get his own clothes out of his apartment. Her brother had left plenty behind on his last trip to visit, but Tyler was fairly certain he hadn't left any business attire.

So with a reluctant sigh, he opened his eyes to the morning sun and slipped out from under her arm.

"Where are you going?" she murmured sleepily.

"Time to rise and shine," he sighed. "I've got to go back to my place for a little while today. The plows are running downstairs so I ought to be able to call a cab."

"It's only eight," she moaned as she squinted at the clock beside the bed. "You don't have to get up yet." She reinforced her words with a hand to his arm, running her fingers down his bicep as she sat up and knelt behind him.

Then she put her arms around him and began to press warm, soft kisses into his neck and shoulder. "Please, Ty," she began in a sweet voice, "lie back down with me."

Resistance was futile, he realized. He was powerless against her touch and her pleas. He'd do anything for her, especially when she began to run her hands over his chest and across his stomach.

He turned to face her, tumbling her back onto the pillows. She giggled and smiled at him in her soft, sleepy way. She was right. It was only eight.

-0-

At nine thirty, he tried again to leave the bed. This time her stomach growled and she agreed it was time for breakfast.

They cooked together—which meant he cooked and she watched and handed him ingredients. When one of the eggs rolled precipitously toward the edge of the counter, he caught it with a deft snap of the wrist. The balcony door stayed tightly closed and the milk tasted fresh and delicious.

"Well, if you have to go," she acquiesced as she loaded the dishwasher, "let me go with you. I want to see your place."

He considered the tiny apartment he'd called home for the past several years with its faded pink laminate countertops and roach invasions that seemed to come at random intervals like surprise attacks. The pipes knocked and there was always a draft, even with the radiator on full blast.

Then he shrugged and agreed. Better she know exactly where he came from.

But he frowned a little as he considered that she didn't really know what he did for a living—a living that paid so poorly he could only afford the roach motel for housing.

As Tragedy and Disaster respectively, Chad and Mona made much better money than he did. But he had always been content with being Mayhem—the fly in the ointment, the bee in the bonnet. The financial rewards weren't that hot, but his schedule was flexible and the emotional overhead didn't threaten to crush him—most days.

He smiled at his lovely Elsa as she wiped down the breakfast table and took her hand. "Yeah, you come with me," he offered. "Then I'll take you by the office for a minute and show you around." He didn't want to keep secrets from her and showing her the office might be the easiest segue into telling her about his actual job.

A little over an hour later, they set out on foot to make the long walk to his place. The streets were still so bad that calling a cab had been futile. In the end, Elsa had produced a winter parka she'd talked out of the doorman downstairs and the two had bundled up against the cold.

The wind no longer roared around the buildings and the sun shone crisp and bright around them, making the walk much less freezing than he feared it would be.

In fact, by the time they reached his block, the streets began to open up to the point that cars ventured out into the roadways to slip and slide their way to their destinations.

They crossed into a one-way street lined with cars parked to avoid the plows, and the snow in the street had begun to thaw into a slick of cold water over ice. He held out his hand to Elsa to help her navigate the incredibly slippery pavement. The door to his building lay mere steps away.

As they picked their way between a parked moving van and a mini Cooper, a sedan turned into the street, barreling straight toward them. The driver apparently panicked at the realization that he was heading the wrong way and braked hard, sending the car into a wild icy spin directly toward the mini.

With the uncanny insight Tyler possessed of the inner workings of chaotic events, he knew what would happen next. The mini would be slammed into them, crushing him and Elsa between it and the heavy van.

Sure, Tragedy might be in the Bahamas, but there was nothing to stop any one of many other undesirable outcomes from taking place. He'd met Trauma at a party one time and had taken an instant dislike to him. It would be just like that bastard to be hanging around at just this moment.

If he were the only one in the way of the accident, he'd just grin and watch what happened. Disaster frequently chided him for pushing his luck and riding the coat tails of the moment just to see how it all played out. But this time Elsa stood beside him, frozen in terror at the sight of the oncoming car. He'd die before he let anything hurt her.

With a burst of speed fueled by equal parts adrenaline and fear, Tyler pushed Elsa up onto the sidewalk out of the Trauma zone as the sedan began to slide into them.

"Recalculating," he heard the car's navigation system declare as it careened nearer. Then he made his own leap out of the way just as the car slammed into the parked vehicles, crushing the mini against the van just as he'd predicted.

For an instant, Tyler thought he was going to slip free of the wreckage, but the mini reached out to grab at his knee, slamming it painfully into the van's bumper and sending him into an uncontrolled spin toward the ground.

He tried to catch himself, but his ribs met the edge of the pavement with a hearty crack and the back of his head slammed into the ice-covered sidewalk so abruptly that it didn't even hurt in his last brief milliseconds of consciousness.

Within seconds, blood from his head began to seep out onto the snow and if he'd been awake it would have hurt like hell. But as it was, he lay there unconscious on the icy pavement, completely unaware that Elsa knelt beside him screaming his name and begging someone to call an ambulance.

(AN: Updates soon I swear. I am not leaving you like this.)


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

The room was quiet at last as Elsa sat beside the bed, Tyler's hand in hers. A nurse slipped into the room, adjusted the IV drip and checked his pupils.

"How is he?" Elsa whispered in a voice made hoarse by calling for help on the sidewalk when she thought Tyler was dying.

The knees of her jeans were still soaking wet where she'd knelt on the ground beside him until the ambulance had come.

Her eyes still burned from the tears that had poured down her face when he finally opened his eyes on the ride to the hospital, only to gasp in pain at his broken ribs.

It had all happened so fast. She'd barely had time to register that a car was coming toward them, when he'd pushed her out of the way and been knocked down by the impact. If he hadn't reacted so quickly, they'd have both been crushed.

The driver of the sedan had leaped out full of apologies and had nearly fainted himself at the sight of Tyler's blood on the snow. It had taken seven stiches in the emergency room to close the gash made by a particularly savage chunk of ice on the sidewalk.

At last the nurse finished her check of Tyler's IV site and answered her question. "He's doing fine. They've given him something to help keep him comfortable with those broken ribs. The scan showed only a minor concussion from the head injury and no bleeding. The doctor just wants to keep him quiet for a day or so and do some observation to make sure he comes around okay. Has he woken up since the ER?"

Elsa shook her head.

"We'll give him a little while and then we'll try to rouse him, just to make sure he's still with us," the nurse added. "If he wakes up, let me know. In the meantime, do you need anything?"

Elsa shook her head, never looking up from her study of Tyler's face, so pale and still. The nurse quietly left the room.

Down in the ER, he'd woken up again very agitated as if he wanted to fight the staff who were trying to help him. Then the pain from his ribs hit him and he lay back on the gurney just trying to catch his breath against what had to be agony judging from the look on his face.

"Elsa!" his voice had been weak as he called to her and they'd allowed her to go to him. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" he kept asking over and over.

"I'm fine, Ty. I'm not hurt. But you are. Be still so they can check you over." She'd tried to reassure him, but it never really sunk in. Every few minutes, he'd ask her again if she was sure she was okay.

Once the staff decided it was safe to give him something for pain, Tyler had gone to sleep with her to watch over him in the privacy of one of the ER's small rooms.

"He's actually lucky," a voice said from the doorway. Elsa turned to see a young man in a white labcoat thumbing through a thick medical record. She remembered him as one of the attending physicians. "A fall on ice like that can be deadly."

"Yes, but tragedy is in the Bahamas right now," Elsa heard herself reply, more than a little hysterical by that point.

The doctor gave her a long curious look, so she shook her head and laughed a little. "I'm sorry. I've just been so terrified," she admitted.

The young man patted her shoulder briefly as he approached Tyler's bedside. "I'm sure Mr. May is going to be just fine," he responded. "I'm David Hope."

"Elsa Sweet," she introduced herself in return. "So you're Dr. Hope? That has to be a source of all kinds of teasing around here."

The young doctor just laughed. "It's not so bad. My patients seem to like it."

Elsa had to admit she felt better herself. "I like it too," she agreed. "So what's next?"

"Right now I need him to wake up and talk to us," Dr. Hope replied. "Do you want to do the honors? Are you family? Friend?"

"Fiancée," she heard herself answer. "We're getting married."

"Congratulations," the doctor offered with a warm smile. "Now see if you can get him to wake up and talk to you."

"Tyler!" she called to him softly. "Wake up, honey. We need you to talk to us."

"You're probably going to have to speak up a little louder than that. He's had a good bit of pain medication."

But Elsa had no intention of yelling at Tyler. Instead she ran her fingers through his hair and kissed him softly on the forehead. "Come on, Ty. Wake up for me."

His eyelids fluttered a little and he whispered an unintelligible response.

"Mr. May, do you know where you are?" Dr. Hope spoke to him in a loud, clear voice.

Tyler winced a little. "In the hospital again, I think. Is Elsa okay? Was she hurt?"

"No, Tyler, I'm fine. You pushed me out of the way," Elsa assured him, beginning to be concerned that this bit of information still hadn't processed for him.

"Do you remember what happened?" the doctor asked.

"He hadn't updated his gps. It gave him bad directions. We were just in the wrong place. I'd call it Mayhem with a touch of Injury," Tyler replied, his eyes closed. "I've gotta see about repaying Injury the twenty I owe her."

Elsa gave the doctor a long questioning stare.

Dr. Hope asked him a few more questions, then once he was satisfied with the rest of his answers, he asked Elsa to step into the hallway.

"I wouldn't worry too much right now. The pain meds have got him a little uninhibited." Dr. Hope smiled at her and for the first time she took an actual look at him. He was taller than Tyler by a couple of inches and had blond hair that brushed the top of his jacket collar. He looked like he should have been a model in a ski catalog instead of a doctor.

"So when will Tyler be able to go home?" she asked, having already dismissed the doctor's good looks as none of her concern.

"Let's shoot for tomorrow afternoon. I'm working on getting him a room overnight. Someone from registration will be by to take care of the paperwork," he replied. "Be sure to let the nurse know if you have any concerns, okay?"

Elsa thanked him and frowned as she re-entered Tyler's room. What would she do when registration came around? She didn't even know his middle name or his birthday.

And she told that doctor she was his fiancée. What was she thinking?

Quietly she opened the door, glad to see that Tyler hadn't appeared to hear the conversation outside his door.

She'd just closed it behind her when someone knocked, none too softly. The door opened and a woman in a black dress suit with a head full of curly red hair entered the room.

"Damn it, May. What have you done to yourself this time?" the woman began, then stopped short when she saw Elsa standing there.

On the bed, Tyler's eyes flickered open in recognition and he attempted to sit up, only to be forced back by the pain in his ribs.

"Don't move," Elsa instructed, putting her hands on his shoulders. "You've got two broken ribs."

"Shit, that sucks," the woman stated then strode over to the bed to peer down at Tyler. "You look like hell."

Tyler laughed a little, but very carefully. "I can always count on you to shoot me straight, Des," he replied.

The woman turned to Elsa and stated, "I've got this if you need to go see about somebody else." Then she pulled up a chair and proceeded to have a seat.

"No, that's okay," Elsa responded as evenly as she could manage. "I'm Elsa Sweet. I'm a friend of Tyler's." She held out her hand across the bed to the other woman.

The woman's eyes opened a little wider and she extended her own for a firm handshake. "Desdemona Astor," she offered in return. "Everybody but May here calls me Mona."

"Sorry, ladies," Tyler interjected weakly. "I should have made the introductions."

Both of them assured him at the same time that they were perfectly happy to introduce themselves.

"I work with Tyler," Mona explained. "His emergency contact at the hospital is the office, so they called to let us know he'd been in an accident. Honestly, I think they've got me on speed dial."

Tyler shook his head a little, but any comment he'd planned to make slipped away from him as his eyes drifted shut once more.

"What happened?" Mona asked more quietly as she leaned back in her chair. "The nurse that called just said he'd been hit by a car. Is he okay?"

Elsa informed her briefly about Tyler's injuries as the other woman just shook her head and sighed. "He doesn't listen to his instincts like he should," Mona commented. "He gets hurt way too often."

"Just what does he do that's so dangerous?" Elsa asked. "What kind of job does he have anyway?"

Mona looked back at her, her brows wrinkled together in thought. "I think May ought to be the one who fills you in on the details," she finally stated. "How long have you known him?"

"Not very long. Only a few days," Elsa admitted.

Just then a soft knock at the door announced the registration clerk. "I'm looking for Mr. May's fiancée," she began, but Elsa did her best to interrupt.

"I'm Elsa Sweet," she interjected firmly over the word fiancée. "I came in with him."

The clerk fortunately did not begin asking any hard questions, but merely asked if Mr. May had any identification on him.

Elsa pulled Tyler's wallet out of her purse and fished out his license and insurance card. The young woman took them and headed back out of the room to make copies.

After she left, an awkward silence hung in the room as the two women just sat and watched Tyler sleep. At last, Mona stood and scribbled her phone number onto a piece of paper.

"Listen if you need anything or if he takes a turn for the worse or something, give me a call. Chad's out of town, but I can be back here within half an hour." Mona stood and passed her the slip of paper.

Then she stood there and looked down at Tyler. "He doesn't have too many people in his life to look after him. God knows, I didn't do a very good job of it. And he doesn't look after himself very well. So you need to know what you're getting into," Mona declared straightforwardly.

"So you and Tyler used to be more than co-workers?" Elsa ventured as she read between the lines.

"That's been over for a long time now." Mona didn't hesitate. "We are just friends these days. But I don't want to see him hurt or jerked around. Make him tell you what he does before you get too deep. Our line of work is . . ." Mona hesitated before finishing, "Unique. But necessary."

Before Elsa could press her further, she opened the door. "Call me if you need me," Mona repeated, then left, leaving Elsa to ponder what she meant by 'unique.'

AN: Well, presumably you've all given up on this one since I'm not hearing back from anybody. But hey, I'm still updating. Meanwhile, if you ARE actually reading, please let me know. I'm down to the wire on this and then I've got original stuff to work on, so I'm pretty committed to getting this one done! Your reviews would mean the world in encouragement!


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